


Welcoming Formalities

by OneofWebs



Series: Sandalphon Die Challenge [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Banter, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bottom Gabriel (Good Omens), Come Eating, Communication, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Consent, Hand Jobs, M/M, Nipple Play, Past Rape/Non-con, Pet Names, Polyamory, Recovery, Service Top Crowley (Good Omens), Switch Gabriel (Good Omens), Threesome - M/M/M, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Top Gabriel (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2020-12-28 15:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21139193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneofWebs/pseuds/OneofWebs
Summary: Aziraphale had just wanted to see Crowley, really. What he hadn't expected was to walk into the flat to hear Crowley and Gabriel getting off in the bedroom. Together. Without him. It dawns on Aziraphale, then, that maybe he's ready to move forward with them. He's wanted to share himself like that for so long, but maybe the timing is right now. They welcome him in, and he's not disappointed.





	Welcoming Formalities

**Author's Note:**

> This is like a soft sequel to Departing Formalities. I had some people wanting to see the poly part at the end in more depth, and I just couldn't resist writing some porn about it, I guess.
> 
> There's some very vague mention of past sexual trauma, but it's nothing explicit or wild. Should be safe for people to read.

Aziraphale always hesitated just once when he knocked on the door to Crowley’s flat. Always at the back of his mind was that one particular time that Crowley had shoved a key in his hand and demanded that he never knock again. Knocking was annoying. Knocking meant that Crowley had to get up from whatever he was doing, wherever he was sitting, and answer the door. It was worse when Aziraphale rang the doorbell, because it was a particular sort of shrill sound that grated on Crowley’s eardrums. Aziraphale still had that key, tightly attached to a little angel wing keyring that Gabriel had got him, but he didn’t use it. He hadn’t used it once.

He still didn’t use it. After he hesitated, he knocked. He figured he’d get yelled at slightly less for knocking than ringing the doorbell. But the knock went unanswered, which had Aziraphale hesitating again. Crowley was usually at the flat. If he wasn’t, he usually _told_ Aziraphale where he was going. Maybe would even invite him along. He had to be here, but the door was still closed. Aziraphale rang the doorbell, then, in hopes that the annoyance would be enough to rouse Crowley up. Still, nothing.

Before he even had the _moment_ to think this was something he’d done. That somehow, he _deserved_ to be ignored because of some made up scenario he was sure never happened—Crowley wasn’t like that. Crowley had always assured him he wouldn’t do something so horrible. They would talk, they would communicate, and Aziraphale was supposed to use his key! Maybe that was it. Crowley was just waiting, testing him. To see how long it would take for him to use his key. Well, Aziraphale would use it. He would march into the flat, with his chest puffed out and a frown on his face, and scold Crowley for such a dreadful little prank.

The little angel wings jingled together while Aziraphale unlocked the door, then he left the keys on the table in the foyer before toeing off his shoes. He had expected Crowley to be right there, arms crossed and reclined into the doorway through to the flat, _laughing_ at him. But he wasn’t. In fact, the flat was still and quiet. The only light was from the windows, though the open curtains were a good indicator that Crowley was home. Just not out in the open. Surely, he couldn’t be napping. The doorbell would have been more than enough to wake him up.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale called out. No response came.

Aziraphale shed his jacket and hung it up in the study. The flat seemed uncharacteristically still, quiet. It left Aziraphale feeling a bit strange. Everything told him that Crowley was _here_, even his glasses sitting out on the desk. But it was more than that, when Aziraphale looked. There was a jacket laid out on the floor in the plant room, like it had been left there in a hurry. It certainly wasn’t Crowley’s jacket, and it certainly couldn’t have been Crowley’s doing. Crowley was always so neat.

As Aziraphale approached the jacket, intending to tidy up and not potentially find out who it belonged to, he no longer _needed_ to pick it up. He could hear noises from the bedroom, noises that turned his face red and hot, all at once. It sounded like _moaning_. Like Crowley moaning, particularly, in the way that he did when something was good. Aziraphale hoped that’s what it was, anyway, and filled in the information on assumption. _He__’d_ never had sex with Crowley. He felt a fool for it, really. That he’d been so caught up on _Sandalphon _and his past to move on with Crowley. With Gabriel. Maybe this was just the inevitable moment where Aziraphale was left behind. Crowley found someone else.

The door to the bedroom was open, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but peak inside. Every worry he had disappeared immediately, and he couldn’t help but step a little closer. He wanted a better _view_. From what he could see, oh, he could see almost everything. Gabriel was propped up in the pillows, one hand wrenched in the soft silk of their cases while the other was gripped over Crowley’s shoulder. Gabriel was stark naked, and so was Crowley, who had his leg thrown over Gabriel’s hips. Crowley braced himself on Gabriel’s chest, and his other hand was down between their bodies. Aziraphale could only guess at what he was doing with that hand, gripped around both of their cocks as he worked his hips forward.

Crowley was groaning, his nails digging into Gabriel’s chest. And even if Gabriel wasn’t quite so vocal, Aziraphale could see the subtle little ways his face scrunched up, his brows arched. He must have been feeling just as good, for his death grip in the pillows. His hips were bucking, and Aziraphale _heard_ Crowley’s exasperation, bitten behind a laugh and a certain type of mocking affection he was so good at.

“You keep that up and you’ll buck me right off,” Crowley laughed. Crowley shifted just right then, and Gabriel _did_ let out something vocal. A low groan, his lips parting with his sudden pleasure. “Yeah?” Crowley continued. “You close, Romeo?”

Gabriel replied with an out of place grunt before reaching up with his other hand to get a proper hold on Crowley. He yanked Crowley down, whose back arched so beautifully when he met Gabriel’s fiercely passionate kiss. When their kiss parted, Aziraphale watched with _anticipation_ when Crowley’s tongue dropped out of his mouth, long and forked as it was, to dance over Gabriel’s lips. Gabriel tilted his head to the side and let that tongue trail a long stripe over his jaw, down his neck where Crowley latched onto a pulse point and sucked. That was the one fatal movement, there, because Gabriel was suddenly smiling.

He tapped Crowley’s shoulder. “Hey, demon, we’ve got an audience.”

Crowley didn’t pull off of Gabriel’s neck until he left a blooming purple bruise in his wake, and then, he twisted just enough to look back over his shoulder and meet Aziraphale’s eyes. Crowley smirked, and the sudden eye contact somehow made this hotter. Gabriel and Crowley were _both_ looking at him when Crowley started to move his hips again. It was a subtle, slow movement, and from the new position, Aziraphale could see what Crowley’s hand was doing. How he had _three_ cocks between his long fingers, stroking them all together. The dripping precum, the mess forming over Gabriel’s stomach. Aziraphale felt something shift in his pelvis, and he gulped.

“You wanna come in, angel? More comfortable in here,” Crowley offered. Now that his attention was elsewhere, he was quieter, but the pleasure was so obvious on his face. Gabriel’s too. They were _enjoying_ each other, and Aziraphale wanted to know just how often they enjoyed each other. _How_ they enjoyed each other.

“I-I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Aziraphale said, sheepishly. He still entered the bedroom, even closed the door behind him until it had clicked firmly.

“Nonsense. Romeo here was just about to shoot,” Crowley laughed to himself, leaning back over Gabriel.

Aziraphale shuffled around the room to sit in a chair, but he kept his eyes firmly on the other two. Now that Aziraphale was welcomed in, their attention was back on each other. Gabriel had his hands clasped around Crowley’s neck, and Crowley’s tongue must have been deep in his throat for how sloppy their kiss was. Their hips, rolling together; Gabriel trying to bend up his knees to get better leverage. Crowley was just rocking forward, stroking his hand. The sight was more than Aziraphale could have ever imagined, and he had imagined so many times.

He’d never seen either of them like this. Naked, sure. But not aroused, not fucking. Gabriel’s cock was thick, heavy. Enough that Aziraphale’s throat went dry when he looked at it. The head was an angry, dripping red, and just as thick as the rest of it. Every roll of Crowley’s hips had Gabriel’s cock peeking out from between Crowley’s own—and of course Crowley had two cocks. Aziraphale used to think it was just a shtick, something funny he mentioned every now and again to make Aziraphale squirm. But he did, actually, have two. Maybe together they would compare to Gabriel’s, but alone, they were tapered down to a thicker base, from a narrow head. Aziraphale had to clear his throat, wish for water, because they were long. Long, and he had them squeezed around Gabriel’s cock—they were moving together.

Aziraphale shifted in his chair, watching as Gabriel reached around Crowley’s waist to drag him closer, to shift up his knees so he could rut his hips up into Crowley’s. They both cried out with the sudden change, and when Crowley dropped his forehead into Gabriel’s shoulder, Gabriel wrenched a hand through his hair so he could attack his neck with dull, sucking bites. Crowley groaned with each one, too distracted now to do anything at all with his mouth in return. His hand was working furiously between them, his nails in Gabriel’s skin—Aziraphale was suddenly too hot. Too uncomfortable.

A moment later, they were both coming. It was a sudden, messy stream of white that shout out and painted over Gabriel’s stomach, his chest, and he didn’t even seem to mind. When the hip rocking stopped, when the _orgasms_ stopped, Gabriel put his hands around Crowley’s jaw, and they kissed. It was a sweeter kiss, this time, and Aziraphale watched carefully as Crowley used his sudden advantage—having two hands—to drag two of his fingers through the mess they’d made. When Gabriel released him, Crowley replaced his lips with his soiled fingers and grinned something awful when he slipped them into Gabriel’s mouth.

What was perhaps even worse was that Gabriel _sucked_ on Crowley’s fingers. His tongue poked out between his lips to clean them of the seed, and they were staring so intently at each other that Aziraphale couldn’t come to any other conclusion than that they were enjoying this. Gabriel licked Crowley’s fingers clean and enjoyed every second of it, and then Crowley was pulling his hand away to reach off to the nightstand and grab a rag. He was very slow and diligent, dragging it up Gabriel’s body to clean the rest of him. It was then and only then that Aziraphale realized that he was _wet_. His effort had reacted much without his approval and had him dripping into his panties.

“Enjoy the show?” Crowley did ask a moment later, once he had settled down on the bed beside Gabriel. They were both covered to their hips by the blankets, then, and quite decent for it. Aziraphale would never unsee what he’d just been allowed to watch, no matter how decent they looked.

“I—” Aziraphale sucked in a breath.

“You’re alright, aren’t you?” Gabriel was suddenly sitting up. “You looked to be watching, so I only assumed—I shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No! No,” Aziraphale shook his head. “I—I liked it,” he admitted, wringing his hands together. His admittance had Gabriel and Crowley looking at each other, wide eyed and a little proud. “I thought that I might, well,” Aziraphale continued strangely. “Maybe that it might be time to…try?”

“Are you sure, sunshine?” Gabriel offered him a gentle smile. “If watching is all you’re ready for, we wouldn’t push you further.” Crowley seemed to look in agreement, though he said nothing.

“I want to try,” Aziraphale reaffirmed. “I want to be a part of that. I’m just not sure _how_, exactly.”

“We’ll go slow,” Crowley said, then. “You could call the shots. Do you think you could do that?”

Aziraphale gave a slow, steady nod. He still sat there tense, unsure, even if he spoke something of certainty. Communication was the important part; Crowley and Gabriel, both, had always been insistent on that. It was better for Aziraphale to talk, so they could sort things out, than it was for him to keep things bottled up inside. Even if it took him a long, solid moment of nothing but silence and deep breathing. He had to say something. He had to say just about everything that was on his mind.

“I don’t like the idea that you’ll like each other more than me,” Aziraphale finally said. After another breath, he continued. “I’m afraid that maybe my effort isn’t up to par, either—”

“Angel,” Crowley stopped him with an affectionate little sigh. He didn’t have to say any more than that, do any more than that, because the look on his face said enough. Gabriel seemed to share the sentiment, and somehow, they could communicate that with looks alone. It wasn’t that Aziraphale’s feelings were silly, because they weren’t. They came from a place of insecurity, from his past, and they were both willing to understand that.

“Maybe you’d like to join us?” Gabriel offered. “Maybe some help getting out of your clothes?”

“Well,” Aziraphale tugged at his collar. It only occurred to him then that neither of them had ever seen _him_ naked. Even if Gabriel had done all he could to take back the things he’d said _before_ they fell in with each other, Aziraphale still couldn’t help the worry. That, and clearly both Crowley and Gabriel were well endowed. Aziraphale had never chosen something like that for himself, when he chose a cock. Maybe the difference was something they wouldn’t like.

“He’s thinking too hard,” Crowley’s off-handed comment came. He slid out of bed, then, and Aziraphale watched with wide eyes. Crowley’s cocks were still half hard, there, between his thighs. And they were right in front of him when Crowley offered a hand to bring Aziraphale to his feet. Aziraphale followed Crowley out to the middle of the room, in front of the bed, and Gabriel followed suit a moment later.

Gabriel was behind him, Crowley in front of him, and Aziraphale tried not to think too hard about how he could feel the hard outline of Gabriel’s cock against his hip as he came closer. Neither of them did anything until Aziraphale nodded, and then Gabriel was undoing his bow tie while Crowley plucked at the buttons of his waist coat. Aziraphale was suddenly glad that he’d left his overcoat out in the foyer. It would have impeded this, left him longer without this sort of close, intimate touch. His waist coat was gone, his bow tie left hanging around his neck, and Gabriel was leaning into him to start plucking at the buttons of his shirt.

“Your trousers, angel?” Crowley muttered. Aziraphale nodded quickly and wished he could bring his hands together to maybe worry over his nails. But he couldn’t, not with Gabriel pulling his shirt off his shoulders. He was entirely shirtless by the time Crowley got his hands on Aziraphale’s trousers, hooked under the waistband to take his sweet time with the clasps, the zipper.

Aziraphale shuddered at the touch of bare hands on his skin. His shirt was gone, and Gabriel’s hands rested on the junction of his shoulders and neck, the tips of his fingers pressing just right to leave Aziraphale feeling relaxed. And then, Crowley was dragging his trousers down the skin of his legs until Aziraphale was stepping out of them, left in nothing but his socks, garters, and baby blue pair of cotton panties. If Crowley could have seen between the thick of his thighs, he would have seen the embarrassing wet spot forming on them. Instead, all he could see was the plump front of his mound, covered by the fabric, and Crowley _stared_.

“Get stuck down there, trouble?” Gabriel chuckled. He leaned forward into Aziraphale’s shoulder to glance down over the front of him, where he could see Crowley still squatting down where he’d been to remove Aziraphale’s trousers.

Crowley didn’t have anything to say more than a strange noise from the back of his throat before finally standing up. He was clearly holding something back, and Aziraphale could see it in his eyes. Crowley had _wanted_ to rip those panties away and lave his tongue over Aziraphale’s skin. Was Aziraphale nicely trimmed? Did he like to keep himself hairless? Or was his public hair thick and curly, that same beautiful white-blond color. Crowley’s tongue darted out and licked his hips, and Aziraphale watched as his eyes bled a solid gold. Gabriel saw it too and reached out to put his hand on Crowley’s jaw, to steady him. It was a gentle reminder that they were going _slow_, and as much as Crowley wanted his tongue between whatever fat, wet folds he could imagine Aziraphale was hiding under his panties, there was no way he could lose control like that. Not yet.

“You’re stunning,” Crowley settled on, running his hands up Aziraphale’s sides, over the bumps and rolls of his abdomen. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, angel.”

“Isn’t he?” Gabriel agreed. Once, Aziraphale would have never _believed_ Gabriel could think that, but Gabriel’s hands were over his chest, cupping the extra skin of his tits and sending a jolt of pleasure through him. Gabriel sounded absolutely enamored, and Crowley looked it. All Aziraphale could do was gulp.

It was when the hands began to wander down that Aziraphale felt his heart race. Crowley had his hands just above his panty line, and Gabriel had his hands down over Aziraphale’s rear. It was innocent, comparatively speaking. And still, Aziraphale suddenly found himself in a cold sweat, pushing Crowley back and curling his arms over his chest. He expected to be shouted out. Maybe even hit—Sandalphon had hit him, harder each time he tried to struggle away. Eventually, Aziraphale had _stopped_ struggling, and it left a sour taste of bile in his throat.

Nothing happened. Crowley’s hands dropped away, Gabriel followed, and they both waited. Aziraphale’s breath eventually calmed, his sight refocused, and he reminded himself, _surely,_ that he was safe here. Crowley and Gabriel wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want, and he _did_ want this. He wanted to finally, finally share himself with them in a way that he knew they both desperately wanted. It was hard to say that they didn’t want it, with how desperately hard they both were. Aziraphale could see that, well enough. Really, for the first time, he wanted to know what it would feel like for someone he _loved_ to hold him like that.

Aziraphale eventually sat back down in the armchair, his arms still around his chest, and he looked at them both. He tried to focus on how comical this looked, both of them naked, him in just his underwear, and he was about to lead them through a very intense comment. It didn’t ease the tension, the worry they both had etched in their brows. But still, he could think of something that would make him less nervous.

“I’m still afraid,” he muttered.

“We don’t have to do—” Gabriel started, and Aziraphale shook his head firmly.

“I want to! That’s the thing, oh,” Aziraphale sighed. “I have never wanted this more than I do right now, and I do want it! You must believe me.”

“We do, sunshine, we do. Where’s the but, then? You don’t sound so sure.” Gabriel looked overly concerned. Crowley had moved to sit on the bed, realizing plainly the strangeness of the situation himself and covering up with a sheet.

“Would it be an unreasonable request to see it? The act, I mean,” Aziraphale said. He couldn’t bear to look at either of them in that moment. “If I knew what I was getting into, maybe it wouldn’t seem so frightening. It’s just—I can still _see_ him, and, well. I don’t know, exactly.” Aziraphale let out a heavy sigh and would have nearly gone to chew on his nails, but he heard something he hadn’t expected.

“You wanna watch more?” Crowley asked, and he didn’t sound disagreeable. “Like, you wanna see me and the wanker over there get it on?”

“Crowley,” Gabriel admonished, but only as playfully as Crowley said _wanker_. It was always playful, always affectionate, and Crowley grinned.

“I—I suppose,” Aziraphale said, “that’s what I want. If that’s alright, I mean. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything you find distasteful.”

Crowley snorted. “I think you walked in on us getting off. If we found each other _distasteful_,” and he said the word with a hiss, “we wouldn’t even be here.” Gabriel nodded in agreement, off to the side.

“The only question that remains is just what are you looking to see?” Gabriel asked.

They talked about it, and Aziraphale had half expected the conversation to end in refusal. If anything, Crowley and Gabriel looked intent. More aroused, if possible, as Aziraphale talked. He found that he really enjoyed what he came in to see, Crowley on top of Gabriel, rocking his hips over him. _Into_ him, maybe, if they would both be agreeable. Aziraphale didn’t know what they got up to in their private time, and they were in no obligation to tell him. He would rather be surprised and see it happen, again, if they were agreeable. He’d expected them not to be. He’d expected Gabriel to refuse because he wouldn’t deign to do something so humiliating, because that’s what it was. It would be humiliating to submit—that’s how Aziraphale had always seen it. But Gabriel hadn’t reacted at all with disgust. In fact, he even looked at Crowley from the corner of his eye.

Aziraphale thought to fill the silence with an excuse—he and Gabriel were both angels. It would be the realest simulation of how _he_ might react, having already decided that he had no interest in _topping_ anyone, as it were. He wasn’t entirely sure of the lingo, the terminology, and then Gabriel was raising his hand so Aziraphale would quiet himself. Gabriel didn’t look disgusted. He didn’t look like he was being asked to humiliate himself in front of someone he cared about. His face was a little red, and his cock was hard between his thighs. Harder than it had been, even, fully erect and dripping down the length of his shaft.

“You heard the angel,” Crowley said. “Get over here.”

To Aziraphale’s great surprise, Gabriel _listened_. It was only a passing moment until he was on the bed with Crowley, and Crowley’s sheets were done away with. They were naked and against each other again, almost as they had been when Aziraphale walked in. Aziraphale half expected them to get right into it. No fanfare, no preliminaries. But that couldn’t be right, because it was Gabriel who straddled Crowley’s hips and leaned down to kiss him, run his fingers through Crowley’s hair. It was Crowley who moaned, but Gabriel worked his hips forward, bumping their cocks together.

Aziraphale felt something flutter in his pelvis, when Crowley suddenly took a firm hold of Gabriel’s hips. The pads of his fingers dug into the skin there, spreading out Gabriel’s cheeks and giving Aziraphale a _view_, if nothing else. Aziraphale gulped—they were still kissing, furiously. Gabriel had his hands over Crowley’s chest, thumbs brushing over Crowley’s nipples. Every pass of them had Crowley jerking, groaning into their kiss. They only parted so Crowley could surge up and roll them over. Aziraphale felt a jolt of arousal at how _easily_ Crowley had overpowered Gabriel. Pushed him right down into the bed and buried his face at the crook of his necks, where every bite and lick had Gabriel’s lips parting in a silent gasp.

Crowley’s mouth only trailed farther down, then, his nails scraping over Gabriel’s skin in the process. Gabriel seemed to shudder at the feeling, his back arching as much as it could with Crowley’s weight settled over him. Then, Gabriel _was_ moaning out, when Crowley’s lips closed over his nipple. Crowley sucked and played over the little nub with the forked end of his tongue while he palmed over the other. Gabriel arched into the touch, rolling his head back into the pillows. He had fisted a hand between them, getting a hold of one of Crowley’s cocks and jerking it in return. Crowley’s body just trembled pleasantly while he sucked.

When he pulled back, there was a trail of saliva from Gabriel’s nipple all the way to his lips, and Crowley didn’t waste another moment before he sucked over the other one. His fingers made work over the other one, rubbing the saliva into Gabriel’s skin. When Crowley pinched the pert little bud, he tugged on it, pulled it until Gabriel was gasping and gripping his nails into Crowley’s shoulder. Crowley pulled away again, letting his tongue dangle down between his lips when he grinned at Gabriel. Aziraphale saw _fangs_—Gabriel must have seen them, too. He wasn’t the least put off, either. Aziraphale watched with wide eyes as Gabriel even pulled Crowley _back down_ into his chest, where those fangs scraped along his skin.

Aziraphale felt a new rush of slick gathering. He wanted to know what it felt like to have Crowley’s teeth on him, like that. Crowley’s tongue. The weight of Crowley between his thighs—all the things Gabriel was getting to experience. What marveled him most about this was how they were touching _each other_. Gabriel wasn’t just lying there and taking it. He was an active participant, or had been, until Crowley had slipped down between his thighs and too far away for the touch. Gabriel had been stroking Crowley’s cock, touching into all the divots of his ribs and his shoulders. And Crowley had looked absolutely aroused by it, too. By default, so was Aziraphale. He’d never imagined that it could look like that. Two people who genuinely enjoyed the touch the other provided. They seemed to like kissing, too, even when Crowley tugged on Gabriel’s lip with his teeth. Gabriel _groaned_.

“Nightstand,” Crowley said. “Wouldn’t want to have any _frivolous miracles_ now, would we?”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and waved his hand between them. A frivolous miracle produced a small tube of lubricant, right from thin air, and then Gabriel was grinning. “I decide what’s frivolous, Crowley.”

Crowley snatched the lubricant out of his hand and gave a little hiss. “Wanker,” he said, as affectionately as he could.

Once he’d poured out a generous helping of the substance, Crowley slipped down further between Gabriel’s thighs, and Gabriel just let them fall open for him. He reached down to stroke his own cock while Crowley got to work, and nothing about it seemed rushed or clinical or _forced_. Crowley just brushed his fingers down over Gabriel’s cleft, and the shudder did not go unnoticed. Gabriel’s back even arched when a finger slipped inside him, and his hips worked themselves.

“Eager,” Crowley mused. “Been awhile, hasn’t it, Romeo?”

Gabriel gave a hapless nod and squeezed the base of his cock. “Take your time, please,” he muttered.

To Aziraphale’s surprise, Crowley nodded. What Aziraphale had imagined to be a rougher sort of engagement between the two of them turned soft in an instant, at Gabriel’s request. All at one, Crowley ran a smooth hand over Gabriel’s thigh. He leaned over to press kisses into his skin, no teeth, just loving little nips here or there around Gabriel’s pelvis, his thighs. All the way down to his knee, all while Crowley’s finger moved slowly. In and out, thrusting at a pace that thrusting was hardly even the word. Stroking, more like it, against Gabriel’s inner walls. Suddenly, Gabriel was gasping out, and Aziraphale froze in his chair.

Had Crowley hurt him? Gabriel didn’t _look_ hurt. In fact, Aziraphale watched with wide eyes as Gabriel seemed to move _towards_ Crowley, rolling his hips down over that finger in search for more. He gasped again and let out a long moan when Crowley just seemed to hold his finger in place. Pressing right up against that spot inside of him until Gabriel’s hips were twitching. Crowley didn’t move save to look over his shoulder, at Aziraphale—checking on him, and Aziraphale couldn’t help the little smile.

“That’s the prostate,” Crowley said to him. “Feels real good when you do this just right,” the little hiss that came out was entirely unintentional. Crowley crooked his finger, and Gabriel moaned again, his hips bucking in response. “Feels good, don’t it, Romeo?”

Gabriel nodded. “Keep going,” he said, rocking down again. “Crowley, please—”

“You hear that?” Crowley crooned. “That’s how good this is, dove. Gabriel’s going to _beg_ me for more.”

“Crowley,” Gabriel frowned, but he didn’t complain. His jaw fell open when Crowley pulled his finger back, only to push two inside him, all at once. Crowley’s fingers moved faster, then. Aziraphale watched with bated breath as they disappeared into Gabriel over and over again, and Gabriel enjoyed each time more than the first.

Crowley was still gentle, still just slow enough. He looked so attentive over Gabriel, ran his free hand down Gabriel’s stomach like a soothing touch, and pressed a kiss into the side of his knee. Aziraphale had frankly never seen his face so soft, yet focused. Crowley was focused intently on the speed of his fingers, the angle, the way he was making Gabriel _feel_. Not even the slightest twitch of his lips went unnoticed, and Aziraphale watched as Crowley adjusted his speed. Went _slower_, when Gabriel hadn’t even appeared to need it. Not to Aziraphale, anyway, but Crowley had seen just the slight shift in his expression and knew what needed to be done. He leaned over Gabriel, bracing himself with his hand just inches from Gabriel’s face. Even as his fingers still worked, his focus shifted entirely.

“You’re doing so good,” Crowley told him softly. “I know it’s been a bit, but you can take it, Romeo. You can take whatever I give you.”

Gabriel responded well enough, a groan from the back of his throat when Crowley pushed in a little deeper, crooked his fingers just right to rub against his prostate. Gabriel had even abandoned his cock in turn for hanging onto Crowley, his arms around Crowley’s shoulders.

“That’s it,” Crowley muttered. “Can you take a third one?”

“Yes,” Gabriel responded in a sigh. Crowley leaned down to kiss him, deeply, and then pulled away.

Once he’d slunk back down Gabriel’s body, his tongue dipped back out of his mouth to lick along the underside of Gabriel’s cock. Then, as three fingers sunk inside of Gabriel, Crowley went down him, going all the way to the base in one swallow. Gabriel’s hips bucked up, and he cried out with the sudden orgasm that ripped through him. Crowley swallowed every drop of seed he had to offer, all the while working his fingers in and out of his body, slowly at first. Then faster. Spreading them apart as he sunk deeper.

Crowley’s tongue had wrapped almost entirely around Gabriel’s cock. Even as Gabriel came, Crowley continued to suck, continued to stroke down over the base with his tongue. Gabriel didn’t seem to stop shaking, the pleasure that it brought him. He wrung his fingers through Crowley’s hair, his other hand into the sheets, and worked his hips. Down over Crowley’s fingers. Up into Crowley’s mouth. Anywhere that he could find Crowley’s touch, he sought for it, moaned for it. And all at once, he was pulling Crowley off of his cock.

“Get on with it,” he groaned, and Crowley grinned in response.

Crowley pulled his fingers back and wrapped the same hand around his cock, spreading any excess lubricant over himself. For good measure, he still dripped over more lube and spread it down the shaft. Gabriel had propped himself up on his elbows to watch, and in the moment, glanced over to Aziraphale. Aziraphale was squirming in his seat, trying to find a comfortable way to sit with the ever growing slick in his panties. He’d been so _focused _on what he was watching, there’d been no time to think of anything else. Not even Sandalphon. And then, Gabriel was smiling at him.

“Do you want to come a bit closer, sunshine?” he asked, finally settling back down.

“Oh, yes,” Crowley agreed. “Come on the bed, angel. Get an eyeful of what I’m about to do to our resident paper-pusher.”

Aziraphale did exactly as they bade. He moved carefully across the room until he had crawled into bed, sitting awkwardly on his knees. He grabbed a pillow to hold in front of himself, against his chest, so he could hide better. Neither of them said a thing.

“Does it feel good?” Aziraphale asked, leaning a little closer.

Gabriel nodded. “It does. Crowley,” he said, suddenly changing his focus. “Are you going to fuck me for our angel?”

“He’s _my_ angel,” Crowley hissed, leaning over. It was in that moment that he’d guided one of his cocks right up against Gabriel’s hole, and Gabriel shifted his hips to make it easier.

When Crowley breached him, Gabriel’s head rolled back, and he groaned. It was a slow press forward, but Crowley didn’t stop until Gabriel was shaking underneath him, and their hips were flushed together. Crowley slung one of Gabriel’s legs up over his shoulder and stilled, then, pressing his lips into the side of Gabriel’s knee. His second cock was nestled up in the juncture there of Gabriel’s raised leg and pelvis, so that when Crowley moved, neither cock would go ignored. Aziraphale, from his seat, was rather shocked that Crowley hadn’t forced both of them in at once, and his eyes were wide.

“How you feeling there?” Crowley asked. His hands were running up and down Gabriel’s thighs, massaging into his skin to help him relax. “I think _my _angel wants to know.”

“It’s good,” Gabriel slurred together. Aziraphale had never heard Gabriel slur his words, but there he was, with his eyes fluttering and words meshed together like he was somewhere else. “Feels full,” he continued, “like—like Crowley’s everywhere.” His hips bucked down in response, his eyes still closed.

Aziraphale edged closer on his knees, _curious_ now. Gabriel looked so blissed-out; his thoughts weren’t connected; his voice was wrecked. And all from _this. _Crowley was just there, keeping their hips pressed together, and looking at him. Like he was _waiting_, and Aziraphale didn’t entirely understand. Sandalphon had never waited. He had always gone as fast as he could, as soon as he could, and it had always left Aziraphale hurting. Gabriel didn’t look like he was in pain, though. He looked—happy.

Gabriel suddenly gave a rushed nod, and Aziraphale watched with wide eyes as Crowley pulled back until only the tip of his cock remained hidden away. And then, Crowley was thrusting. He had a tight grip on Gabriel’s thigh, keeping him still, in just the right position to make this as good as was. Gabriel cried out with every thrust, through every slap of skin. The squelch—Aziraphale could hear every press forward. Gabriel opened right up for Crowley, and Crowley kept a heavy pace.

He leaned over Gabriel, bracing himself around his shoulders, and it changed _everything_. Suddenly, Gabriel’s loud cries turned into low moans, and he had to grip into Crowley’s shoulder to find purchase, to keep himself grounded. Crowley ground against him, rolling their hips together, and working as deep as he could go. Every press, every roll rubbed his cock right up against Gabriel’s prostate, and Gabriel was left shivering, trembling through every move. His hips worked down into Crowley’s—he wanted it. He wanted _more_, and he had the ability to just take it.

Gabriel wrenched Crowley down to smash their lips together, and his leg wrapped high around Crowley’s waist to keep him close, keep him _working_. Crowley’s thrusts were quick, then, and Aziraphale made an effort to watch each centimeter of his cock that appeared and was slammed back inside of Gabriel. Gabriel took it, cried out for it when Crowley pulled away from their kiss. The saliva that dripped between them was enticing, but there was no energy left for kissing. Crowley was groaning, then, with every thrust forward.

He pulled back and had both of Gabriel’s legs up, then, over his shoulders. When he leaned over, he fucked Gabriel in half with a renewed vigor. Every thrust left his hips stuttering, a faltered rhythm, and somehow, Crowley still had mind enough to reach between Gabriel’s thighs and jerk his cock. Gabriel’s back suddenly arched with his orgasm, coming undone after one touch. He clenched down around Crowley, shouting out his pleasure, and went limp all at once. Every thrust after pulled more noise from Gabriel, and he met each one with his own hips. It didn’t take long, after that.

“Inside—” Gabriel gasped, locking his ankles behind Crowley’s neck to keep him from pulling back. “Crowley, come inside me.”

Crowley nodded. “Always the same with you angels,” he muttered out. “Can’t get enough of this, can you? You want to be filled—” he broke off then with a loud cry as he spilled inside, and Gabriel clenched down around him, again, as he did. Crowley’s hips stuttered for what seemed like a long moment before he finally released his breath, went lax. Gabriel’s legs fell away from his shoulders, and Crowley leaned down over him. They were pressed entirely together, Crowley still inside, their chests flush, and Crowley’s hands moving slowly along Gabriel’s sides as they kissed.

They kissed slowly, over and over again until Gabriel seemed to find some strength again. He pushed his fingers through Crowley’s hair, and they parted a moment later. Crowley’s hands came over his chest where he continued what had been a lovely little massage, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice the way he was smiling. It wasn’t a smile he saw Crowley wear often. A contented, joyous little smirk that seemed saved for intimate moments like this, only.

“You good?” Crowley asked. Once Gabriel nodded, Crowley pulled away from him, slowly. He eventually sat back on the bed, still between Gabriel’s legs, and leaned back onto his hands. He looked at Aziraphale, who was still kneeling there, hugging a pillow to his chest.

“What about you?” Crowley offered a gentle smile. “You doing okay, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded. “That was—well, that wasn’t anything like I imagined,” he said, voice quiet. He looked at Gabriel, then, pointedly. “You…enjoy that?” he asked.

Gabriel gave a pleasant hum. “It’s good,” he said. “I certainly wasn’t one to partake in these types of earthly pleasures until Crowley introduced me.”

“It’s been fun,” Crowley added, off-handed and snide. He was smiling, though. Aziraphale couldn’t help but notice that Crowley still wasn’t soft, either. It left him wondering just how long Crowley could do something like that. If it was within his ability to hold Gabriel down and fuck him for days, just like that. The idea left Aziraphale squirming, a bit.

“Do you…?” Aziraphale asked at Crowley, then.

“Sometimes,” Crowley replied. He leaned forward and smoothed his hands over Gabriel’s pelvis around where his prick was making a valiant effort to harden again. “Romeo here’s not too bad at it. I prefer to ride him,” Crowley grinned something sly, looking at Aziraphale from the corner of his eye. “Archangel he may be, but he likes a firm hand. Likes to put in his place.”

Gabriel didn’t argue. On the contrary, he looked pleased that Crowley had taken enough time to know that, to learn it. He certainly wasn’t put off by Crowley’s hands on him, either. Crowley seemed to know just where to touch, dragging his thumbs down along the underside of Gabriel’s prick, over his bollocks, and down to the strip of skin beneath. Gabriel’s cock twitched in interest with every brush of skin.

“I could fuck him again,” Crowley offered. “He seems to have a refractory period, you know,” and Crowley briefly explained what that meant while Aziraphale nodded along. “Won’t get rid of it either, the wanker.”

Gabriel laughed to himself.

“I can go all day.” Crowley gestured to himself, answering a question Aziraphale hadn’t been brave enough to ask. It was the perks of snake anatomy, Crowley explained. Sure, if he wanted, he could put in a greater effort for a human prick, but that was more against his nature. More obnoxious. He’d gone with a cunt, once, too. Hadn’t been bad, either. He’d enjoyed it but didn’t talk in length about either of those times. Instead, he talked about his _current_ effort. His long, tapered cocks. The one that still looked slick with lubricant and slick wasn’t nearly as stiff as the second one, which had only been rutting against Gabriel’s skin while they fucked. He fucked with one while the other recovered, and then he could go all over again.

Aziraphale gulped, his face red. Crowley answered every question he’d had like he could read minds, but really, Aziraphale wasn’t surprised. Crowley seemed an attentive lover. Like he paid attention to the little things that mattered, and clearly, he knew enough to spill all of Gabriel’s secrets too, while Gabriel laid there with a blissful look on his face. Aziraphale wanted to feel like that too. Bliss.

“What are you thinking about, sunshine?” Gabriel asked.

“I’m afraid you won’t like me,” Aziraphale muttered. “My body, my effort—maybe I won’t be very good at this.”

Gabriel and Crowley seemed to move both at once; Gabriel sat up, and Crowley moved over to Aziraphale, to take his face in his hands. To tell him that it was _alright_ to be afraid, but he had no reason to. It was hard to express anything with words, really, but if Aziraphale was ready for something more. There was something more waiting for him, and he could see that. All he had to do was say yes; Crowley and Gabriel would ensure he never thought about anything bad again. Replace the negative, so to speak, even if it didn’t quite work like that. Aziraphale hoped it did.

“Take me,” he whispered. He was ready.

When things were finally situated, Crowley was leaning back into the mound of pillows. Aziraphale was sure he’d miracled up more for the occasion, but he didn’t care. His back was pressed up into Crowley’s chest, leaning back against him, and Crowley’s hands were smoothing over his shoulders while he kissed pretty little touches up and down Aziraphale’s neck. They made him shiver, the touches each in kind. And still, they weren’t even a comparison to Gabriel kneeling in front of him, prick half hard and dripping. Aziraphale could even see the line between his thighs, where Crowley’s spend was leaking out of him. That image alone left Aziraphale unbearably hot, bothered.

Gabriel ran his hands up Aziraphale’s legs, starting from his shins, over the socks and garters he still wore, and up to the meat of his thighs, where Gabriel squeezed and rolled at the extra skin. He looked enamored, and Aziraphale had never seen that before. Not with Gabriel. He had been so terrified that Gabriel would take one look at him and be disgusted, but he couldn’t pull his hands away. Nor his eyes. He leaned down to run his lips over Aziraphale’s thighs, dragging kisses over him, until he was right at the junction of his hip.

“Can I mark you?” Gabriel asked. Aziraphale let out a heady little whimper and nodded.

Gabriel sucked over his skin, then, nibbled into it for extra effect. And he kept at it, decorating Aziraphale’s thigh, up to his hip where the line of his panties was waiting, tantalizingly close. But Gabriel didn’t dare touch. He didn’t dare spread Aziraphale’s legs, not yet. Not until he’d left a pretty little collection of marks over Aziraphale’s thigh, and then he worked over the other one. The entire time, Crowley was kissing his neck, sucking the same purple marks into his skin, rubbing his arms. Anything to make Aziraphale feel like he was loved, protected—_worshiped_.

“You’re doing wonderfully,” Crowley told him, then licked a stripe up his neck to his ear, where he sucked Aziraphale’s earlobe into his mouth. Aziraphale shuddered, and the wetness of his cunt was only growing.

He’d decided on this effort after he knew he’d never have to see Sandalphon again. He’d always preferred this effort, even if he’d never mentioned it aloud. He thought he even might like the way it felt, but he’d saved that. When he knew he’d have no escape, back then, he refused to produce this effort, like a defense mechanism. To save his favorite for someone he _cared_ about. Someones, now. There had never been a single hand over his cunt, not even in his own, and certainly nothing inside of it. This would be a new experience, and the thought both scared him and thrilled him. He’d seen the way Crowley and Gabriel laid together, and it had its gentle moments. Even now, neither of them had tried to do anything. It left Aziraphale a bit frustrated, really, but he knew this was better. It was better to have permission, which he was slowly learning.

“I—I think I’m ready,” he suddenly said, voice a bit shaken from the pleasure, already. “Can you please, Gabriel, darling,” Aziraphale worried into his lips.

“What is it, Aziraphale?” Gabriel asked, then, suddenly eye-level with him. When Gabriel leaned closer, Aziraphale whimpered into the kiss he offered. Kissed back, even, letting his eyes flutter shut. Gabriel kissed him beautifully, gently, and ran his tongue along the seam of Aziraphale’s lips in a silent plea for more. Aziraphale granted it, parting his lips for Gabriel’s tongue. Gabriel’s tongue ran over his tongue, his teeth, the roof of his mouth nearly to the back of his throat, where a sudden spot had Aziraphale jumping, groaning. Gabriel flicked his tongue over that spot until Aziraphale was trembling and pulled back.

He might have said something about that spot. How Aziraphale seemed quite the type to need something in his mouth, down his throat. Maybe a cock would do, maybe fingers—but Gabriel said nothing. Aziraphale wasn’t ready for that, and maybe wouldn’t be for a while. This wasn’t about them, anyway, Gabriel and Crowley. This was about introducing Aziraphale to something wonderful, to something he’d never experienced before.

“What is it, sunshine?” Gabriel asked again. “You can tell me. You know there’s nothing I won’t do for you.”

Aziraphale nodded. “Please—Gabriel, darling,” Aziraphale leaned into him, away from Crowley, “you can—please, take off my panties.” Aziraphale’s face was entirely red when he leaned back, having just whispered the final part. But Gabriel smiled at him, ran his hands along the side of Aziraphale’s face and kissed him again.

Gabriel’s attention went down to Aziraphale’s hips, and Crowley helped when it came to getting the panties off. They were soaked through, soiled, and packed with Aziraphale’s scent. Crowley could already see a future, if that was the mess Aziraphale made in his own underwear just _watching_. He could take those panties and shove them into Gabriel’s mouth, gag him on Aziraphale’s slick. It would be wonderful, perfect, but Crowley kept his thoughts to himself in turn for kissing Aziraphale. As much as he might want to indulge in those fantasies now, waiting would always be best.

“We’re going to spread you open now,” Crowley said. Aziraphale gave a nod, and Crowley nuzzled closer into his neck. They didn’t just spread Aziraphale’s thighs, but they hooked his legs on the outside of Crowley’s own, to keep them open. Aziraphale had never felt so exposed, but it didn’t bother him so much. The cool air that hit him just made him shiver, and Gabriel’s eyes didn’t look the least bit disgusted.

“What do you say?” Crowley asked, then. “Can I touch your tits, angel? So beautiful and plump—I have to get my hands on you.”

Aziraphale nodded hurriedly. “Please, dear,” he gasped.

Crowley did exactly that, wrapping his arms around Aziraphale to cup his chest. Just the touch alone had _Crowley_ moaning, the weight of Aziraphale’s chest. He squeezed the flesh, rolled and massaged it under his palms. Every brush sent a light of pleasure through Aziraphale, and he had no idea his chest was so sensitive.

“I think we should let Gabriel in on this,” Crowley muttered. “Look at him, so unsure of what to do. Will you let him touch you?”

Aziraphale nodded. He watched as Crowley used one hand to reach out for Gabriel, guide him forward until he was nosing into Aziraphale’s chest, over his left tit. Aziraphale gasped when Gabriel’s tongue darted out, licking over his nipple. Crowley watched with near envy, but he still had Aziraphale’s right breast in his hand, and he wasn’t idle. He had Aziraphale’s nipple between his fingers, tweaking it, twisting. Everything he’d done to Gabriel—Aziraphale had watched so carefully. When Crowley tugged on his nipple, Aziraphale gasped out.

And then, Crowley was guiding Gabriel _closer_. It wasn’t just his tongue on Aziraphale, anymore, it was his lips. He’d sucked Aziraphale’s nipple into his mouth and still licked over it, feeling it harden under his touch. Aziraphale’s entire body trembled at the touch, and Crowley only made it more intense. He’d sucked on his own fingers for just a moment, and then brought his wet fingers back to Aziraphale’s nipple. He rubbed the saliva into Aziraphale’s skin, over his nipple, pressing down and rolling the tight nub between his fingers. All while Gabriel continued to suck, and then there were _teeth_.

Aziraphale cried out, arching his back. His head fell onto Crowley’s shoulder, and every moan into Crowley’s ear just egged him on. He could feel it, every moment longer that Crowley was growing harder between him, his cocks pressing into the small of Aziraphale’s back. But Crowley was so wonderful, so controlled. He didn’t so much as roll his hips. Instead, he put all his attention into Aziraphale. Still, he had enough left over to curl his free hand through Gabriel’s hair to encourage him, and Gabriel groaned around Aziraphale’s nipple.

“You’re doing so well,” Crowley said. “Do you feel good, angel?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“Use your words,” Crowley urged. “Gabriel can’t see you. Don’t you want him to know how good you feel?”

“I-It feels so good,” Aziraphale whined. “G-Gabriel’s mouth, his tongue. I never knew—I didn’t know it could be this good.”

Crowley gave an appreciative hum. They swapped sides, after, that. Gabriel mouthed over his right tit while Crowley tweaked and tugged his left nipple. Aziraphale couldn’t think a single place beyond that pleasure. His entire mind was filled with it, bogged down with it. Gabriel felt so good against him, and Crowley’s fingers were ever skilled. Aziraphale found his hips bucking, using Crowley’s legs for leverage. He _wanted_ more. He wanted Gabriel to touch him, for Crowley to sink inside him. For someone to do _something_, and it crested all at once. Aziraphale let out a high-pitched shout, and he felt the gush of slick from between his cunt’s lips. His body trembled, shook, and his hips seemed uncontrollable for a long moment. His mind went white, foggy, and when he opened his eyes again, Gabriel was holding his face.

“Wonderful,” Gabriel said. “You’re exquisite, Aziraphale. You just came for us.”

“I—I did?” Aziraphale squeaked. “I’ve never—I’ve never felt like that.”

There would be time later to be angry about that. For all Aziraphale had suffered. This was a moment to have Aziraphale feel good, think good things, and fall apart for the both of them. Between them. Crowley wrapped his arms low around Aziraphale’s waist and pressed a kiss into his jaw, just above Gabriel’s fingers. He even kissed over Gabriel’s fingers, then, and Aziraphale watched from his blissful state when Gabriel pressed his fingers into Crowley’s mouth. They knew so well what each other liked, what they were good for. It made Aziraphale feel a bit out of place, a bit—Crowley’s voice broke off his thought, when Gabriel pulled his fingers back.

“Gabriel is going to touch you now, is that alright?”

“Y-Yes?” Aziraphale looked confused.

“Down here,” Crowley explained, running his fingers along the underside of Aziraphale’s stomach, down to the plump swell of his mound. Crowley couldn’t see from his place, but he could feel the neatly trimmed curls. He couldn’t contain his shiver, the way he ran his lips over Aziraphale’s skin. “He’s going to put his fingers in you, okay? He’ll go slow, and I’ll be here the whole time.”

Aziraphale didn’t know exactly what to say, but he didn’t want to say something negative. This would be strange, it would be different, but he _wanted_ it. Gabriel’s fingers were glistening with Crowley’s spit, and they were down between his thighs. The first touch had Aziraphale jerking, entirely unsure, but his entire body came alive after that. Gabriel’s fingers glided through his slit, rubbing over his lips, his hole, and come back up. The tip of his finger dug up under the hood of his cunt, and Aziraphale suddenly cried out. His hips bucked wildly, and if not for Crowley’s hold on him, he might have clamped his thighs shut entirely from the intensity. He’d _never_ felt that before, and Gabriel’s finger didn’t disappear.

Gabriel rubbed over the little nub, and the pleasure just kept building. Aziraphale rolled his hips, trying to find _more_—more. He needed more. He needed to understand how it felt so good, and even better, then, when Gabriel had two fingers over the nub. He surrounded it, Aziraphale’s own slick and Crowley’s spit easing the touch. Gabriel squeezed around the nub, and Aziraphale shouted. His eyes went wide, and all at once, that same feeling returned in that wave of white. His breath was heavy, he was panting, and Gabriel _still_ hadn’t let up.

“I—I came?” Aziraphale gasped, looking to Crowley.

“You came _beautifully_,” Crowley told him. He kept one hand pressed over Aziraphale’s mound, keeping him still, but the other dragged back over his stomach. Crowley didn’t ignore any of the fat, the rolls—he treasured each inch of Aziraphale that he climbed until he cupped at his chest again. “You’re doing so well, angel. You’re doing so _well_ for Gabriel.”

“You feel so good down here, sunshine,” Gabriel joined in. His fingers rubbed down the length of him, again. “You’re so wet for me. So slick. I wish I could put my mouth on you.”

“N-No,” Aziraphale whined.

“I won’t,” Gabriel assured, leaning up to press a gentle kiss into the corner of Aziraphale’s lips. “You won’t get anything you don’t want; I promise.” He ran his fingers through Aziraphale’s folds, back and forth, cresting over his clit on every other pass. Each time he touched over Aziraphale’s hole; he felt the twitch it. The way Aziraphale was quivering, how open he was. Aziraphale was positively dripping, and when Gabriel pressed a finger over his hole, Aziraphale cried out.

“Do you want this?” Crowley asked. “Gabriel won’t go farther if you don’t want this. You can tap out at any point—”

“I want it,” Aziraphale gasped. “Inside me, Gabriel—darling, please,” his hips bucked to prove his point, like he was trying to bring Gabriel’s finger into him on his own.

Gabriel obliged and slipped his finger up into Aziraphale’s cunt, slowly. Dragging the pad of his finger over Aziraphale’s walls, feeling the way he constricted, the tightness, the slick. Everything was nothing short of divine, and Gabriel even moaned. Just from the touch. His cock was achingly hard, it was all of his self-control to not reach between his legs and jerk himself off to this. This was about Aziraphale. This was for _Aziraphale. _He wore his desire on his face, though, because the next thing Gabriel knew, Crowley was sliding his hand down over Aziraphale’s folds as a subtle reminder, bumping into Gabriel’s hand. As if to say this is where their focus is, not themselves.

“Are you ready for another finger?” Crowley asked, pressing his lips into Aziraphale’s temple. “Ask him for it. No,” Crowley corrected, “tell him you want it. Gabriel likes to be _told_.”

Aziraphale gave a quick nod. “Another finger—I’m ready,” Aziraphale said. “Gabriel, please.”

Gabriel pressed in a second finger, and Aziraphale cried out. His hole just spread open, accepted Gabriel deep inside. That was when Gabriel really got to work, pumping his fingers, spreading them apart. Aziraphale realized not a moment too soon that Gabriel was _preparing_ him, ensuring that he would be ready to continue. Every press of his fingers, deep against his walls, left Aziraphale loose and open. Stretched until he was begging for a third finger, and Gabriel did as he was told. The third finger caused no pain, no burn. Aziraphale only groaned and rolled his hips down over the fingers. He was dripping, making a mess over the sheets, Gabriel’s hand, and still—still, neither he nor Crowley had moved away.

“How do you feel?” Crowley asked.

“A-Amazing,” Aziraphale gasped. “Wonderful. I—I’ve never. _Please_, I’m ready for more. Gabriel, darling, please—”

“Whatever you want,” Gabriel assured. “I can’t wait to have you,” he said, leaning close to kiss Aziraphale. “You’re going to be so good for me.”

Aziraphale even spread his thighs a little wider. He leaned back into Crowley, angled his hips. When Gabriel’s fingers left him, he whined at the loss, bucked his hips. He looked so enticing, so plump and juicy. Every buck of his hips shook his entire body, and Gabriel couldn’t help but stare. Even the fat of his lips bounced with him. Gabriel shifted forward to run the head of his cock through Aziraphale’s folds, and the resounding moan was almost enough for Gabriel to lose his control.

“Steady,” Crowley reminded him, a hand on his shoulder. “Slow. My little angel needs to be cared for.”

Aziraphale couldn’t suppress the moan that left his throat. Just at the sound of that. Crowley’s little angel. Crowley already sounded so wrecked, even if he continued to try and remain impartial, unaffected. He sounded like he was ready to burst, and every shift Aziraphale made reminded him plainly just how hard Crowley was. He was dripping, making a mess of Aziraphale’s lower back with every movement. Aziraphale couldn’t wait to be able to take care of them both at the same time, he really couldn’t. For now, he knew this was his limit.

Gabriel’s cockhead brushed between his folds a moment longer before finally pressing forward, slowly. Aziraphale’s jaw fell open, his cry silent. There was no pain when Gabriel breached him, just an overwhelming amount of pleasure. He could feel every inch Gabriel stretched him open, how his body accepted it willingly—Aziraphale _wanted_ this. Gabriel was fucking him a second later, in slow thrusts, rolling his hips forward. Aziraphale met every one, trying to mimic what he’d watched Gabriel and Crowley do. It felt so good—his entire body on fire with _pleasure._

“G-Gabriel,” Aziraphale gasped. “Oh, yes, just like that. Gabriel—”

Gabriel pressed forward, grunting with his own pleasure. Aziraphale was so wet, so warm around him. Every time Aziraphale cried out, he clenched down over Gabriel’s cock, and just made it all that much better. Every drag of his cock, Gabriel dropped forward into Aziraphale’s shoulder and kissed into his skin, trying to ground himself. Crowley hadn’t been idle, and Gabriel gasped at the sudden feeling of Crowley’s fingers against his prick. Crowley had dropped his hand down between Aziraphale and Gabriel, pressing along Aziraphale’s lips to feel where Gabriel disappeared inside of him. Just his fingers, there, and the warmth they provided—Aziraphale cried out in turn, his hips stuttering.

“Just like that,” Crowley told him. “You’re doing so well, so good. You’re beautiful, Aziraphale.”

“C-Crowley—” Aziraphale gasped.

“Are you going to come again? Are you going to come for Gabriel?” Crowley tapped his fingers into Aziraphale’s labia and reveled in the tremble he received. Gabriel was thrusting harder, faster, with a focused hit each time. Aziraphale’s cry was _gorgeous_, and Crowley bristled.

“Wh-what was that—?” Aziraphale wondered.

“Humans call it a g-spot,” Crowley told him. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Gabriel’s never fucked a cunt before, angel. You should be proud of him. Tell him how proud you are, will you?”

“G-Gabriel,” Aziraphale tried. He didn’t know what to say, but Gabriel’s hips hitched just right again and rammed into that spot; Aziraphale cried out.

“Tell him thank you,” Crowley whispered.

“Th-thank you, Gabriel!” Aziraphale cried out. “Oh, oh—it’s so good. It feels so good!”

Crowley rewarded him by soothing his fingers down through his folds, gathering his slick to ease the press against his clit, then, and Aziraphale spasmed with the sudden orgasm. The vice of his cunt had Gabriel coming a second later, without the time to ask, to make sure it was okay. He spilled inside of Aziraphale, his hips twitching as it continued. Aziraphale didn’t complain, he just cried out with every stutter of his own hips. His orgasm lasted just as long as Gabriel’s, with Crowley’s fingers over his clit.

Gabriel pulled out a second later, and the rush of fluids Aziraphale felt had him shuddering all over again. He could feel a mix of his own slick and Gabriel’s seed; all he could do was wonder why it had taken him so long to experience this. He felt so good, so thoroughly pleased. So warm. So very much not in pain. Everything felt light, happy, and Crowley’s fingers were still dragging through his cunt, through the slick of his hole. He almost thought Crowley was going to finger him, but nothing of the sort. Crowley was just—massaging him, really. Leaving Aziraphale feeling warm. Aroused.

“I’m sorry,” Gabriel muttered, his hands on Aziraphale’s neck. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

“It’s okay,” Aziraphale replied. He leaned forward enough to kiss Gabriel. “I enjoyed it. You—you were wonderful, darling.”

Gabriel kissed him again, fully, and visibly shuddered when Aziraphale draped his arms around his shoulders. Aziraphale hadn’t done much, but they hadn’t expected him to. Just to know he was comfortable enough to return the touch left Gabriel smiling into their kiss, pressing closer. Aziraphale’s hands were warm against his back, scraping slightly as their kiss deepened. When they finally parted, Aziraphale’s face was red, he was breathless. Gabriel had never seen him quite as beautifully, really, and he smoothed his hands over Aziraphale’s body like that might prove it.

“I love you, Aziraphale,” Gabriel whispered. “You did so well. You are absolutely beautiful.”

“Gabriel—”

“Don’t you think we should give Crowley a turn? It would be unfair of us not to give our demon a turn; he’s been so patient.”

Aziraphale could _feel_ the growl in Crowley’s throat before he heard it, the rumble of it in his chest. Crowley had just watched all of that, mostly silent. He hadn’t once rutted against Aziraphale to find release. He’d been patient, kind, and Aziraphale shuddered at the idea of finally taking one of his cocks. Crowley’s were so _different. _They weren’t as thick, but they were longer, than Gabriel’s. A base far thicker than the head, a thick vein along the underside. Aziraphale couldn’t move fast enough.

They shifted around until Aziraphale was in Gabriel’s lap, just the same as he had been. His knees were spread, hooked on the outside of Gabriel’s legs. Gabriel’s hands were busy, too, smoothing over Aziraphale’s skin, cupping his rolls, his chest. All while he pressed his kisses over the marks Crowley had positively decorated him in. Aziraphale was face to face with Crowley, and Crowley’s _gaze_ was near predatory. His eyes were bled yellow, still, blown pupils. He had fangs instead of teeth, and his tongue was long.

“Crowley, my dear,” Aziraphale muttered. “Your scales are showing,” he brushed his fingers along Crowley’s jaw.

“I can try to—”

“No!” Aziraphale amended. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful. Please—I’m ready for you.”

Crowley let out a growl and leaned forward. They kissed, and Crowley’s kiss was so different, too. It was sharper, rougher, and his tongue reached all the way to his throat. He could bend his tongue however he wanted, and he was somehow down Aziraphale’s throat and brushing into the roof of his mouth, that same spot that Gabriel had found that left him a shuddering, dripping mess. When Crowley pulled away, Aziraphale was drooling from their kiss. And then Crowley was dragging his fangs over Aziraphale’s body—every bite wanted, coveted. Aziraphale couldn’t wait to see the mess they made of him, when they were done, and hoped these marks would never fade.

“My little angel,” Crowley muttered. He shifted closer, and Aziraphale could feel those cocks against his pelvis. “I can’t wait to have you. You did so good for Gabriel,” he said, closer. “I can’t imagine what you’ll do for me.”

“Crowley,” Gabriel said. “I think he’s ready for you. Don’t keep him waiting, it’s not polite.”

“I’m not polite,” Crowley replied with bite, but he followed the line of Gabriel’s fingers as he reached down into Aziraphale’s folds, spreading him out for Crowley.

“Ask him if he wants it,” Gabriel muttered into Aziraphale’s hair. “He likes to be _asked_.”

“C-Crowley,” Aziraphale squeaked, trying to ignore the pleasure alone from Gabriel’s fingers, “d-don’t you want me? Please—will you please have me?”

Crowley took one cock in his hand. Even if they were both achingly hard, now, Aziraphale noticed that it was the right cock. The one that he had _not_ used in Gabriel, and the idea just did something. Aziraphale was trembling before he even felt Crowley against him, between his folds. There, with Gabriel’s fingers rubbing into his lips, and Crowley’s prick right up against his hole. Aziraphale was thinking this is exactly where he wanted to be for the rest of his life. Between the two of them, letting them take control of him like this.

His cunt was being spread open again, all at once, on the head of Crowley’s cock. The slick slide was unimaginable. Aziraphale might have thought the slick would make it worse, but _nothing_ could have made this worse. He could feel, pointedly, every inch of Crowley’s cock that dipped into him. Every long, long inch, until Crowley’s hips were flush against his, and Gabriel had pulled his hands away. He stroked Crowley’s other cock while he stayed there, shifting, letting Aziraphale adjust.

The feeling was certainly different. Gabriel had left him open, gaping from the size of his cock, but it was nothing like this. How deep inside him Crowley could reach. Crowley’s hips stuttered with every drag of Gabriel’s hand over his free cock, and in turn, Aziraphale shuddered. He was so sensitive from his orgasms, and this was just making everything more intense. Aziraphale found he was _liking_ more. Anything that he could have, as long as it was Gabriel and Crowley, he wanted it. He wanted _them_.

When Crowley started to move, Aziraphale gasped. Crowley was quick, fast, in his fucking. And it sent sparks through Aziraphale’s entire body, every time their skin slapped together. Even the feeling of Crowley’s free cock rubbing into his skin, dripping and leaving a mess, felt good. Felt almost as good as Crowley’s cock buried deep inside of him, the slap of his bollocks. Aziraphale cried out with everyone, reaching out to grab onto Crowley. He hadn’t understood why Gabriel had been so insistent on holding Crowley, but he understood now. He felt like he might discorporate if he didn’t hold onto something, even if it was Crowley’s shoulders, even if it hindered what Crowley could do.

Gabriel peeled back Aziraphale’s hands and held them in his own, keeping him grounded, keeping him alert. He pressed his lips into Aziraphale’s cheek while Crowley fucked him. He drank in every one of Aziraphale’s cries, letting his eyes close. He could _feel_ every one of Crowley’s thrust, the force behind them. The way that Aziraphale was jolted through them. It was everything he could do not to let his cock harden again. Maybe he and Crowley could have gone round for round, but Aziraphale was going to need a rest. He already looked tired.

“You’re doing so well,” Gabriel told him. “You’re taking him so beautifully. Does he feel good?”

“Yes, yes,” Aziraphale cried out.

“How does he feel, demon?” Gabriel asked Crowley.

“_Fuck_,” Crowley grit out. “Fuck, I can’t—I’m gonna come.”

“Do you want that, sunshine? Do you want your demon to come inside you?”

Aziraphale gave a quick, hurried nod, bucking his hips down to meet Crowley’s. He wanted this so badly, he didn’t have the words for it. All he could do was cry out with every thrust, Crowley’s name on his lips, Gabriel’s name. He was coming again, and again when Crowley spilled inside of him. Before Crowley could pull out, Gabriel reached around both of them and put his hand on Crowley’s hip, keeping him close. They both looked down with _awe_, Aziraphale and Crowley, as Gabriel took up Crowley’s free cock in his hand and started to stroke him. Crowley’s hips stuttered in return, and by the time his second cock had released, Aziraphale had come around him again.

When Crowley pulled out, Aziraphale gasped once more. He was so, painfully sensitive, he knew he wouldn’t be able to take anymore. And there was no more. Gabriel laid him down in the pillows while Crowley crawled off the bed and went for the bathroom. Upon return, Crowley had a wet rag. He must have cleaned himself up in the bathroom, as Aziraphale noted how his cocks were both limp and notably not covered in slick anymore. Crowley’s attentiveness was something Aziraphale had never really understood, until then. There wasn’t an inch of Aziraphale’s body that Crowley didn’t tend to with the rag, to leave him clean. And when it was done, Aziraphale curled up against Gabriel’s chest.

Crowley turned to Gabriel, too, the rag somehow always fresh and clean when he started. Aziraphale watched with his quiet awe as Crowley took time to clean Gabriel, too. Down, between his thighs, between the cleft of his cheeks where he’d been dripping in Crowley’s seed since the beginning. Crowley didn’t stop until they were both clean enough to sleep, and then he pulled off the bed again to return to the bathroom. Aziraphale heard the water running.

“What’s he doing?” Aziraphale asked.

“It’s best to bathe, afterward,” Gabriel explained. “He’s just getting the water going. We can wait as long as you need.”

“Does he always do this?”

Gabriel nodded. “Even if we don’t do anything penetrative. Now, maybe he won’t admit this, but I think he just likes a good, warm bath.”

Aziraphale laughed quietly, into Gabriel’s chest. Gabriel just held him close, rubbing a gentle hand up and down his spine.

“He loves you, too, you know,” Gabriel whispered. “He’s wanted to do this for so long, I’m sure he’s just forgotten himself.”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t apologize, sunshine. We’d have waited forever, if we had to. You know that.”

Eventually, the water stopped, and Crowley returned from the bathroom. Just as Gabriel said, Crowley offered as long as they needed before getting into the bath, but the bath was mandatory. They made their way there soon enough, and Aziraphale hadn’t even had to walk. He thought he might have to bat his eyelashes, but Crowley had lifted him without preamble. Gabriel followed close behind, and somewhere, once they were all three settled in Crowley’s large, marble tub, Crowley remembered himself enough to whisper his love into Aziraphale’s ear.

**Author's Note:**

> 𓆏 Thank you! 𓆏  
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